Yearlings is the second album from Sydney-based quintet Dead Letter Chorus (not to be confused with Aussie metal-band Dead Letter Circus), and following the low-key released of 2008’s The August Magnificent, it’s their first major label effort. One which promises to take you on a ‘sonic journey, to a musical space they’ve made their own. A space they’ve been aiming for since their inception in 2007, and a space they may soon leave’. Well, thanks very much.

Furthermore, Yearlings is apparently a ‘raw song cycle detailing the highs and lows of a love affair, exploring familiar territory with a profound insight. New love, contentment, rot, ruin, hope and all of their satellite emotions delicately wave and wind throughout this collection of sublime vignettes’. Ok, so slightly hyperbolic press release aside, this is actually a pretty decent album.

Lead by multi-instrumentalist Conor Potts and vocalist Gabby Huber, the band, all pretty dresses, shirt and ties, beards and blazers, recall Band of Horses, My Morning Jacket, Ryan Adams and PJ Harvey among others. Throughout the ten well-crafted tracks here, we get pounding percussion, strumming acoustics, twinkling piano, swelling organs, peddle steel, swirling strings, effectively conservative use of the electric guitar and some brilliant male/female vocal interplay. All of which has inevitable lead them to be dubbed ‘Australia’s answer to Arcade Fire’, and while it’s not quite that good (what is?), there certainly are similarities.

Lyrically, it’s all fairly simple, and does indeed explore familiar territory. Yet it’s hard to see where the ‘profound insights’ reside in lines such as “I got lost in a burning wreck, which made me such a mess / I’m sorry for the pain I caused you” Curiously, it’s some while timed ‘do-whop’s in ‘Run Wild’ and ‘oh-woah’s in ‘Yellow House’ that save things from becoming overly-earnest.

With its sublime group harmonies, and warm, natural-sounding production, ‘Yearlings’ is sure to appeal to those enjoying Mumford & Sons and Fleet Foxes et al at the moment. It’s a melancholic record with a poppy edge and a lot of depth, but perhaps lacking the innovation needed to project the band as far as they want to go. 

Ultimately though, it does mark a noticeable progression from the band’s debut, and is a fitting soundtrack to pastoral heartbreak every where - best listened to in a darkened room, with a bottle of whiskey, after the shipping forecast. Probably.      

7/10           

Standout tracks: ‘Covered by Snow’, ‘Run Wild’ and ‘Yellow House’

A video I made of our recent trip to Amsterdam, click on the link above!

Bright Eyes @ The Royal Albert Hall, London. Thursday 23^rd June 2011.

Bright Eyes’ last gig in London, back in February, was at the decidedly more modest venue of the Scala. But tonight, for one night only, Conor Oberst and his merry men are given the keys to the Royal Albert Hall – 19^th century listed-building that’s played host to everyone from Bob Dylan to the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra in the past. Indeed, there’s been a healthy mix of intrigue and excitement growing about this one since it was announced last year.   

First on though are Jenny & Johnny - Jenny Lewis of Rilo Kiley fame and her partner (in every sense) Jonathan Rice - performing songs from their debut album ‘I’m Having Fun Now’. The sparse crowd of early-birds gives them due respect, but are largely under-whelmed by their country-tinged indie, until an acoustic version of Rilo Kiley’s ‘Silver Lining’ closes their set wonderfully, and showcases the full range and radiance of Lewis’s voice.       

Further warming up the crowd is Welsh solo artist Gruff Rhys. The Super Furry Animals lynchpin, and his ramshackle band, rattling through the best of his recent ‘Hotel Shampoo’ LP with a charming naivety probably better suited to smaller venues, but proving to be a lot of fun none-the-less.  

Bright Eyes announce their arrival to the now full auditorium with a dramatic dipping of the lights, and one of the familiar spoken word musings of Danny Brewer wafting through the formidable PA. The Cobain-esque riff of ‘Firewall is followed swiftly by ‘Haile Selassie’ and ‘Four Winds’ – the enigmatic Oberst clearly enjoying himself, but speaking only minimally between songs.    

Save from a noticeable fumble during ‘Shell Games’, this is a slick production throughout, and one befitting of both the size and prestige of the venue. Two drummers, pedal steel, plentiful keyboards and synths, a brass section and an exquisite display of lighting, all helping to augment Oberst’s fragile but cutting voice.  

The two hour set is fairly People’s Key-orientated, but it’s the country-stylings of old favourites such as ‘Poison Oak’ and ‘Another Travillin’ Song’ that really hit the mark and get the best reception from a transfixed audience. All rounded off by a solitary piano performance of the hauntingly brilliant ‘Ladder Song’.     

During a three-song encore, Oberst introduces us to the members of his band, allowing them each a jaunty little dance in the spotlight, before closing with “One For You, One For Me”. Free from the shackles of his guitar, he clambers down the front to high-five the audience, looking unusually comfortable as he basks in their adulation. And so he should, because tonight, the boy from Nebraska has had them hanging on his every word. 

Richard Williams

An approximation of what was played last night at Twisters, thanks to those who came along! (click on the link above)

It’s amazing how fast things can move these days, LA’s Foster the People have only been together since October 2009, but a little over a year and a half later their debut album Torches hits the shelves. But despite being, to all intents and purposes, a new band, somewhat unusually for the industry these days, its member are already in their mid to late twenties - something that’s apparent in the sumptuous craft with which the ten songs here have been put together.

Before getting his band off the ground, lynchpin Mark Foster originally paid the bills by writing jingles for television commercials, and it shows, because at the heart of each song is a bite-sized melody that’s pure and infectious. There’s no attempt to subvert anyone, or anything, here, just a warm and accessible album, full of heart and promise. The harmonised falsetto vocals evoke MGMT and Empire of the Sun at their best, whilst the keyboard and synth codas recall Cold War Kids, Ben Folds and Phoenix.

As an album, Torches is all about nimble bass-lines, minimal guitars, throbbing percussion, and sing along choruses. Single ‘Pumped Up Kicks’ is a deceptively sinister pop-song about an outcast school kid, who’s finally had enough –  the breezy melody containing the lyrics “All the other kids, with their pumped up kicks, better run, better run, faster than my bullet”. Elsewhere, ‘Houdini’ is effortlessly bombastic, and a sure-fire dance-floor hit in the making, think Dizee Rascal meets Modest Mouse.   

Clocking in at just over 40 minutes, this is a more-than-solid collection of three minuters keen to impress. Lyrically, it might not always be overly challenging: “Oooh la la, I’m falling in love /and it’s better this time, than ever before” for example. Some of the album-tracks float dangerously close to Maroon 5 territory too. Ultimately though, it’s an album sure to get the obligatory ‘soundtrack of the summer’ stamp from critics, and signals big things ahead for the band. Expect them to be a big hit at this year’s festivals too. 

Richard Williams  8/10

Im delighted to announce that I now have my own night at Twisters (North Hill, Colchester). It’s called We Used to Vacation (funnily enough) and will be on the 3rd Friday of every month - starting 17th June!  9pm - 2am FREE ENTRY

It’ll play all the music, new and old, that I love - and hopefully you do to!

Think: The Cure, Pulp, Friendly Fires, Blur, MGMT, SFA, Arcade Fire, , Arctic Monkeys, Ash, Idlewild, Hot Chip, The Libertines, Beck, Justice, The Beach Boys, Maximo Park, Radiohead, Death Cab, Manic Street Preachers, Suede, The Futureheads, Brand New, New Order, The Smiths, Belle and Sebastian, Springsteen, The Postal Service, Cold War Kids, REM,  The Coral, Dandy Warhols, Hefner, Bowie, Oasis, Jimmy Eat World, Editors, Flaming Lips, Elbow, Foals, Franz Ferdinand, The Hold Steady, Jack Penate, Bombay Bicycle Club, The Kinks, Two Door Cinema Club, Los Campesinos, The Maccabees, Modest Mouse, Primal Scream, Rilo Kiley, Weezer etc etc!   

Hope you can make it!

Richard

Death Cab for Cutie - Codes and Keys

Seattle’s Death Cab for Cutie are a genuine success story – a band from humble beginnings, who have grown with each album in terms of both popularity and critical acclaim, but yet thankfully have not forgotten what made them so great in the first place. This, Codes and Keys, is the band’s seventh long-player, and builds naturally on its predecessors, without the stadium-sized posturing you might forgive from a band at this stage in their career.

Setting out in 1997, they are a band that have, by their own admission, surpassed all expectation, and now continue to make great music, the way they want to. Sure, signing to a major label, and being used on the soundtrack for every American teen drama going, will make some indie kids will feel that they aren’t ‘their band’ anymore. But increased popularity and richer production, doesn’t necessarily mean a band have ‘sold out’, more often that they now have access to better studios, and have advanced as musicians over the years.       

Led by chief songwriter Ben Gibbard and guitarist (and sought-after producer) Chris Walla, they had hinted that Codes and Keys would be a much less guitar-centric affair than previous records. While this is true to an extent, they haven’t quite converged with The Postal Service (Gibbard’s acclaimed electronic side-project) yet. Instead, processed beats, chopped-up vocals, synths and atmospherics augment the slender, but potent, guitar lines, as illustrated best on lead single ‘You are a Tourist’. Elsewhere, there’s piano-driven melancholy and shades of Low, Band of Horses, My Morning Jacket and Flaming Lips.

Gibbard is one of the great storytelling lyricists, focusing on minute details that make a big difference. But while there are trademark moments of darkness, there is also an overwhelming sense of positively – I guess being married to Zooey Deschanel is enough to put a smile on anyone’s face!. Song titles such as ‘Monday Morning’, ‘Portable Television’ and ‘Underneath the Sycamore’ are a bit trite by Death Cab standards though, and ‘Some Boys’ - a tirade about how uncouth other boys can be sometimes - is a bit annoying in its air of superiority.  

Overall, this is the sound of a band totally at ease with what they’re doing, resulting in a slow-burner of a record, one that reveals more of itself with every listen, seeping into the consciousness gradually, but it ultimately well worth the time. 

             8/10

Art Brut – Brilliant! Tragic!             

Recorded with former Pixies singer Frank Black at the helm, this is the fourth (yes fourth!) album from English/German new-wave funsters Art Brut. The band became somewhat of a cult hit back in 2005 with their debut album –  the refreshingly quirky Bang Bang Rock & Roll – a record that spawned minor hits such as ‘Emily Kane’ and ‘Formed a Band’. But Brilliant! Tragic! is perhaps a joke too far.  

Frontman Eddie Argos is an assuming figure, part Jarvis Cocker and part Darren Hayman, and at times a genuinely humourous and touching lyricist. He’s effortlessly made a career from, you know, ‘speaking to the kids’ about things they can relate to – futile crushes, getting drunk, group texting, problems between the sheets, dancing awkwardly, making mix-tapes etc – and never quite taking himself seriously. But there’s a nagging feeling he’s repeating himself these days.  

Musically, the band’s lo-fi, but palatable, riff-rock hasn’t really evolved at all since their debut. Which isn’t really a problem as the music was always served as a backdrop for Argos’ ponderings anyway. But although his trademark spoken yelp is still present and correct, he’s now also got a creepy half-whisper thing going on, and due to the encouragement of producer Frank Black, even attempts to sing properly at times too – a failed experiment I’m afraid.     

Lines such as “he dresses like he came free with the NME” are pure Argos, and ‘Lost Weekend’ is up there with ‘Good Weekend’ and ‘Bad Weekend’ in completing the trilogy nicely. But elsewhere the six minute centre-piece ‘Is Dog Eared’ has already made its point after the first thirty seconds, and while ‘Martin Kemp-Welch Five A-Side Football Rules’ is a great title, it’s a fairly unremarkable song. On penultimate track ‘Ice Hockey’, he sings about going into space – David Bowie’s ‘Space Oddity’ it is not.   

Argos’ ambitions have lessened over the years too, on their debut, he talked about writing a song ‘as universal as Happy Birthday’ and one that would unite Israel andPalestine. He also shouted excitedly about Art Brut rocking Top of the Pops for several weeks running (who would have thought they’d outlive the show?). Now he whispers wearily “I wanna be played in the background while couples drink their wine / that would be a triumph with a voice like mine”. Sadly, I don’t think this record will make even that modest dream come true. 

                                                                                                                      5/10

‘Belong’ is the second album from New York indie-popsters The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. Describing it as ‘hotly anticipated’ might be a stretch, but there was a definite undercurrent of excitement approaching the release, from those who, like myself, enjoyed the adolescent charm of their debut back in 2009. Sadly, it seems to have (almost-unanimously) fallen short of those expectations.

Preceding single ‘Heart in your Heartbreak’ was a corker, and having also recruited Alan Moulder and ‘Flood’ (of Smashing Pumpkins fame) for productions duties, the signs were that their likeable, but slightly wimpy, melodic rock would be given extra balls, the live show certainly suggested this too. But save from the speaker-blasting opener, it sounds more like a photo-copier-running-out-of-ink version of their debut, than the progression many had hoped for.

Nice, as an adjective, is the scourge of primary school English teachers everywhere, but really is the only word to describe much of this record. The mix of jangly three-minuters and shoegazey nod-outs, like their eponymous debut, sound curiously British in their conception, recalling The Cure and The Stone Roses among others. Singer Kip Berman is an unassuming presence with an understated voice, which is fine when it works, but not so clever when offering lyrical banalities such as: ‘Everyone is pretty and fun / everyone is lovely and young’. There is a fine-line between dreamy and dreary.

Lo-fi guitars fuzz, synth lines bounce and boy-girl harmonies evoke a the romance, albeit a slightly asexual one. This is a coming-of-age record searching for its film to soundtrack - competent, inoffensive, but ultimately a wasted opportunity. 

7/10

Most people don’t think twice about slipping hotel shampoo bottles into their suitcases, but fewer could see it as inspiration for a new album. But that’s Gruff Rhys all over, the Super Furry Animals frontman has always had a knack of taking the peculiar or mundane, and turning it into something quite touching.

Following the Welsh language Yr Atal Genhedlaeth and the pleasant, but perhaps overly-twee, Candylion, this is Rhys’ third solo album and comes with no real expectations at all, especially as day-jobbers SFA’s recent output as been un-even at best. They are rightly treasured as one of Britain’s most inventive bands however, and also one of the few to successfully ride the Brit-Pop wave with mature grace. Hotel Shampoo is everything their last record Dark Days/Light Years should have been.    

This is a cosy affair, full of Beach Boys warmth, samba percussion, 60’s salvaged loops and Burt Bacharach-style romance. Rhys shows that for all the wackiness of SFA, he is an undeniably fine musician. The arrangements on each song are all lovingly crafted, with piano, trumpets, strings, harmonies and synths adding to the rich palette. “I didn’t know you / but you felt like a friend” he sings on the opener, unwittingly mirroring the feeling you get towards this album.    

At 40 years-old, he also shows Weezer etc that you can still write about girls and sex without making the listener cringe their way to the nearest paedophile hotline. The wonderful ‘Space Dust #2’, a duet with Swedish singer El Perro Del Mar, tells the tale of two strangers meeting at a Science conference and indulging in a night of passion, which soon turns into entertaining awkwardness. ‘You upped and left without warning / I had to work in the morning’ they bicker. ‘You couldn’t even look me in the eye’ Del Mar accuses. ‘You had your sunglasses on’ Rhys responds.

Hotel Shampoo is not without its flaws (some of it borders on the pastiche), and at thirteen tracks could definitely have benefited from some tighter editing. But lyrically and musically Rhys is in fine fettle, which bodes well for forthcoming SFA albums. ‘I’d never claim you were mine / Just if we were words we would rhyme’ he shrugs in one of the many understated, but magical, moments. 

8/10